


Meet Our Lancers (and Their Cypher)

by DarkCoffeeWitch



Category: Anthem (Video Game)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-04-07 08:21:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19081174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkCoffeeWitch/pseuds/DarkCoffeeWitch
Summary: Guided by their cypher Gael, Signy and Raith, two freelancers out and about in Bastion, get more than they bargained for when a contract to eradicate some Scar leads to an unstable relic.





	Meet Our Lancers (and Their Cypher)

Signy skimmed low over the crest of the waterfall, using the mist to cool her javelin’s thrusters before climbing in a steep ascent to search for signs of the Scar infestation that Gael swore he detected in the area. As her Storm automatically shifted power from propulsion to its shield while it hovered, Signy said, “I don’t see anything, Gael.”

“I’m working on it,” Gael replied, “But there’s also Shaper energy in the area. It’s very… loud.”

Raith’s blue Ranger, fondly referred to as Fishbone for the design on the helmet, swept up to Signy and hovered long enough for Raith to begin signing. Uniquely modified to help Raith overcome the challenges of being a mute freelancer, Fishbone translated the hand and arm movements as he signed, providing a synthetic voice over the commlink for the team to hear, “Send the coordinates for the Shaper energy. Maybe we can sell what we find to the Arcanists.”

“I agree,” said Signy. “Plus, the Scar might be attracted to the energy. We could end up getting two birds with one stone.”

“Fine, but it’s only the two of you. Do not overestimate yourselves.”

“Just when my ego was in danger of collapsing under the weight of my self confidence,” Signy said while signing to Raith, “Someone is a grumpy grabbit today.”

Raith pantomimed a grabbit with his left hand, then a gun with his right and “shot” the grabbit, spreading the fingers of his left hand wide in imitation of an explosion.

Signy snickered.

“You know what cyphers do, right? I know you’re talking about me,” Gael’s accent, the burr of far southern nobility, became more pronounced.

“Then don’t be a grumpy grabbit,” Signy said as the Shaper energy location popped up as a purple marker point on her helmet’s HUD. Raith, ever eager, shot forward, a frosthound on the hunt, Signy in her Storm following in his wake like a beleaguered huntsman.

Bastion passed beneath them, its precipices and waterways making the land feel as restless and capricious as the freelancers who traveled across it in service of the people of Bastion. Just as the wildlands differed vastly from the orderly, walled cities, so were the freelancers different from the people they served. Freelancers spent their days, and often nights, fighting beasts, Dominion, Scar, and even the Shaper energy itself left behind in the increasingly unstable relics scattered across the land. 

Raith flew through a small cascade of water flowing off an undercut Cliffside before rolling his javelin in the air and diving toward the marker point, his shoulder mounted missile system locking onto the group of Scar who had all turned their multifaceted eyes upward to watch the approach of the freelancer.

“Oh no, you don’t,” Signy said as the Scar began to raise their own weapons. She hovered above, lined up her attack area, and felt the burst of cold energy from her Storm as it froze the entire group of Scar just as Raith’s missiles flew to their targets. He landed among the remaining Scar, lashing out with energy blade, laser canon, and grenades, so his javelin was the center of a maelstrom of explosions and flashing light. Signy kept to the air, freezing then calling down whiplashes of lightning on a new party of Scar that swarmed in from the south to reinforce their comrades.

“The Shaper relic is reacting to the energy you are releasing,” Gael said. “You need to wrap that fight up and stabilize the relic. Do you see it, yet?”

Signy took a moment to study the area outside of Raith’s circle of mayhem and saw the telltale blue pulsing glow of an unstable relic.

“I see it!”

“The relic has cast off pieces over time, but your javelin’s sensors should be able to locate them. Bring those fragments back to the relic and-“

“I know, Gael. This isn’t my first relic.”

“Well, someone has to do things properly. What if this weren’t the same kind of relic? There you’d be, hurling chunks of broken relic at it and screaming,” here he did a falsetto imitation of her voice, “’Gael, why isn’t this working?’ and I’d be within my rights as a cypher to tell you to shove-“

Signy stopped listening and scanned the area from the air, determined that no more Scar were immediately inbound. Raith seemed to have things well in hand. He appeared to be stomping the remains of a destroyer into unrecognizable bits, only stopping when a lone scout broke cover to shoot him, taking down his shield but otherwise not damaging Fishbone. Raith unlimbered his assault rifle and lept off in pursuit without a backward glance, so Signy left him to deal with the stragglers and landed by the closest relic fragment. Tugging it from its place, she carried it to the pulsating relic and felt the snap, like a puzzle piece put its proper place, as it reattached itself to the whole. She tracked down four more and met Raith bringing the last. With the addition of the last fragment, the relic collapsed to the ground, going dormant, its chaotic song silenced.

“Thank the gods,” Gael said, “That one made my teeth hurt.”

Raith and Signy studied the relic, a now formidably sized metal decahedron resting on the ground at their feet, then looked up at each other.

“Paper, rocks, scissors for who has to carry it back?” signed Raith.

 

In the end, they made a sling for it out of Signy’s black and white cloak and carried it between them, a venture that nearly caused them to collide several times while they determined a mutually acceptable altitude and speed at which to travel. 

“Try not to drop it,” Gael sighed, “Again.”

“I know, I know,” said Signy, “If it’s too damaged the Arcanists won’t want it.”

“Speaking of, I’m closing the link to get in contact with their acquisitions people. Don’t die while I’m gone.”

Signy and Raith looked at each other, Signy laughing when Raith made a one-handed sign for “money”, followed by “nobles”, and shook his head.


End file.
